


Inconveniences

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: A/B/O, Angst, Arranged Marriage AU, Fluff, Heat/bonding, M/M, Minor Character Death, There will be fluff, and Steve's pigheaded angst, but nothing too serious don't worry, dubious legality, fighty steve, i don't know anything about how arranged marriages or wills work please bear with me, shrinkyclinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6903370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve's father dies, leaving a will that states that Steve must marry James Barnes- an alpha he's scarcely met- and Bucky just wants Steve to notice him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this for a while. I'm going to be frank with you, updates are going to be few and far between because I'm seriously lacking in motivation right now, but if you can bear with me, I'm sure we'll have a good time. Rating will change. You'll notice that Foggy refers to Steve as 'Miss Rogers'- This is because Steve is an omega- basically, their society sees omegas the way ours used to see women (so, as property). This is not my view of how women should be treated in the real world and I believe in equality and a woman's right to choose what happens to her and her body at all times. This also doesn't mean that Steve uses "she" pronouns, hence why Natasha (an alpha) uses female pronouns. Omegas (even males) use terms that we would think of as female; Mrs, mother, nun, actress, wife, etc. Hope this makes sense! I'm also planning on a non-A/B/O version featuring transman!Steve, so stay tuned if you're interested in that.

Steve felt like he was about to throw up. In the midst of everything surrounding his father’s death- grief, condolences, an entirely new wardrobe that he and his mother could scarcely afford  _ before _ the funeral expenses- his father’s will had contained something which neither Sarah nor Steve had any previous knowledge of: A marriage contract for Steve. Signed by Joseph Rogers and George Barnes, the father of James, the alpha Steve was evidently supposed to marry. Both George and James were present (Steve hated to admit that before he knew why they were there, he’d been looking at the young alpha appraisingly), and while they’d both been pleasant enough, as they had been any time they’d spoken at church functions, Steve swallowed bile and looked up at the attorney, his expression stony.   
“My father never asked me about this. I never gave my consent.” He insisted. The attorney, Mr Nelson, grimaced and shook his head.   
“This was signed before the Omega’s Rights Act took effect,” he explained. “This contract is binding unless Mr Barnes-” James opened his mouth, but the lawyer silenced him with a look-  _ “senior _ , annuls it. I’m sorry, Miss Rogers.” Steve closed his eyes and nodded, feeling James’ stare on the back of his head. 

 

*

 

Two days later, a package came in the mail for Steve from the Barnes estate. It was book-shaped, wrapped in brown paper and twine, with several smaller packages stacked on top, all secured together with more twine. The wrapping was clumsy, as though the person who had done it had limited experience with that sort of thing, and there was what probably amassed an entire spool’s worth of twine wrapped around the exterior, topped off with a lopsided bow. He cautiously unwrapped the book- a leather-bound sketchbook, quite finely crafted- and a note fell from beneath the cover. 

> _  Steven:  _
> 
> _ This is for you. I don't  _ _ know if you draw or anything, but if not, I guess you could use it as an address book or something. I mean, I guess I didn't think this through all that well, but  _ ~~_ I saw it and thought of you _ ~~ _ I admired the craftsmanship and thought you might, too. I really don’t have any preference as to what you do with this, as long as it goes to good use. In the other packages, if you haven’t unwrapped them yet, you will find the following: a set of drawing pencils, a set of chalk pastels, and, in the smallest box, a ring. The ring was my mother’s, and I’d ask that if you don’t wish to wear it (or if it doesn't fit), to please keep it safe somewhere. I hope to hear from you soon, so I can learn more about the man I am to marry.  _
> 
> _ Yours, _
> 
> _ Bucky Barnes _

 

_ What a stupid nickname, _ Steve thought as he placed the note to the side. He unwrapped the pencils and pastels, setting the pastels on the coffee table to give away later.  _ No use in keeping them if I can’t see which colour is which.  _ Last, he took a deep breath and unwrapped the ring box, opening it to reveal a tasteful, if well-worn, gold band, detailed to appear braided. He took a deep breath and removed it from the slot, slipping it onto his finger. To his chagrin, it fit nearly perfectly- it was a little loose, but it wouldn’t fall off unless he flicked his wrist particularly hard, so he had no excuse not to wear it. He set the wrappings aside, slouching forward with his elbows on his knees as he fiddled with the ring. The gravity of the situation was starting to sink in; at the beginning of his next heat, in four months’ time, he would be married. To a man who called himself  _ ‘Bucky’. _

 

*

 

Well, Steve couldn't just  _ not reply _ to his fiancé. The sheets in the sketchbook were perforated, so he decided to send a sketch along with his letter. He sketched the view out his window, the skyline of Manhattan- in fact, he could see the Barnes building- and sprayed it liberally with non-workable fixative. Then, he started the letter. 

> _ ‘Bucky’; _
> 
> _ Thank you for the gifts. I’ve included a sketch of the view from my window. Unfortunately, I had to give the pastels away, because  _ ~~_ I’m colourblind _ ~~ _ I don't tend to work in colour. I just want to make something clear: I will marry you because my father wanted me to. You seem like a very nice person, but I don’t want you to think that I’ll fall in love with you, because I  _ ~~_ probably _ ~~ _ won’t. I’m sorry if this seems harsh, but I’ve never been one to beat around the bush when it comes to things like this. I hope you’ll forgive me.  _
> 
> _ Steve Rogers _

 

_ Fuck, it’s too mean, isn’t it? _ He realised. He sighed and crumpled the letter, reaching for his pen to start fresh. 

>  
> 
> _ ‘Bucky’;  _
> 
> _ You were right, this is a beautiful sketchbook. Thank you. I’ll fill it quickly, I’m sure. I’ve included a sketch I did of the skyline from the east-facing windows of  _ _ our _ _ my  _ ~~_ parents’ _ ~~ _ mother’s house. Don’t worry about smudging it; It’s coated in fixative, so it should hold up. The pencils are wonderful, and if you like this sketch, I can send you more. Just- If you want. The ring fits perfectly. I wish I could use the pastels you sent, which I’m sure are lovely, but unfortunately, I’m red/green colourblind, so anything I draw in colour usually ends up wrong. I gave them to my friend Sam. I think he’ll put them to good use.  _
> 
> _ You seem like a very nice kind of person, Bucky. That’s why I’m telling you what I’m about to tell you: I’m terrified. I had honestly no plans to ever get married, and suddenly, so soon after my father’s death, I find out that I’m to be married to a perfect stranger in less than half a year’s time. I can’t promise I’ll be kind to you. In fact, I could almost promise that I won’t. But I want you to know that it won’t be your fault. I’m just frustrated at our situation, but I promise I’ll be faithful, and I’ll do my best to be a good mother to the children you no doubt want. I hope to hear from you soon-  _ **_I’d_ ** _ like to know what kind of man  _ **_you_ ** _ are,  _ ~~_ Ja _ ~~ _ Bucky Barnes! _
> 
> _ Steve Rogers _
> 
> _ p.s. how do you get ‘Bucky’ from ‘James’? _

 

But then, maybe that was too saccharine. Steve exhaled heavily and resigned himself to talk to James after church the next Sunday. Maybe he’d be able to explain it better to him in person. 

 

*

 

Bucky leaned forward against the rail of the widow’s peak. He took a drag from his smoke, allowing his eyes to wander over to the Rogers’ brownstone. He was marrying down, he knew, because his father’s friend had been seeking security for his omega son, and Bucky had already presented as an alpha when they came up with the idea. It had probably seemed brilliant at the time, when they were still speaking to each other; but George and Joseph had had a falling out not long after Bucky knew the contract had been signed, and, as a result, he and Steve had never gotten to know each other at all. In fact, it seemed to Bucky like Steve hadn't even known about the contract. It wouldn't surprise him if Steve were resentful- in fact, from what he knew about Steve Rogers, he’d be shocked if he wasn't. Alright, so maybe that was speculation. Bucky didn't care to flatter himself and say he knew Steve other than by name and face, despite having had a quiet crush on the omega for years, since they were in _Sunday school_ , for Heaven's sake. But he did know that Steve loved to draw, and that although the omega didn't smile often, when he did, it looked like a sunrise. Bucky knew that Steve got into a lot of fights and that his ideas of an ‘omega’s role’ were modern- but Bucky never quite liked the idea of a housewife, anyway, and  _God, the blue of his eyes..._

 

*

 

Steve took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists where they hung stiffly at his sides.  _ C’mon, you’ve gotta talk to him eventually, _ he told himself, and walked briskly over to where Bucky and another alpha-  _ Natalie? Natasha?- _ were talking. The redhead spotted him and nudged Bucky, nodding to where Steve was. She said something, the corner of her mouth twisting into a smirk, but Steve couldn't tell whether it was good or bad. By the time he reached Bucky, she was gone.   
“Uh… Hi.” Bucky greeted Steve, alerting him to the fact that he had been standing there and scowling for God-knows how long.   
“Hi. Can I talk to you?” Steve asked, immediately cringing.  _ Shoulda just sent that goddamn letter.  _ Bucky’s face took on an amused expression, and he half-smiled as he teased,   
“No, I only talk to people I’m  _ not _ about to marry. What is it? Did you get the book I sent you?” Steve nodded, then shook his head in frustration.   
“Look, I- I meant outside,” he clarified. “‘M nervous enough as it is, don’t need everyone gossiping.” To his relief, the alpha nodded, extending his elbow for Steve to take as if it were the 1800s or something. Steve arched a brow and refused, but walked alongside his fiancé all the same. They walked around the church perimeter to where there was a fairly secluded bench before Bucky started talking.   
“Look, if the ring was too forward of me, I’m sorry, I just--”  
“Shut up,” Steve cut him off. “It’s not about that. It's not even about  _ you.” _ He looked at the alpha, who had a questioning look on his face. Steve sighed. “I’m royally pissed at our fathers, particularly mine. And before you say it, I know I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but if he wasn't dead we wouldn't be having this fucking conversation, would we? No. No, we wouldn't. Look, maybe your dad told you, but mine never told me. He never even told my  _ mother, _ for Christ’s sake. Who the Hell does that?” He threw his arms up in frustration before crossing them and slouching. When he looked at Bucky, the older man looked like he was holding in a laugh. “What?” Steve snapped. Bucky caved and started giggling, before trying to stop himself a second later.   
“No- No, look, I’m sorry, just- I never pictured you to be the type to swear and we  _ just got out of church, _ Steve, and oh my Lord. You’re  _ adorable.” _ Steve scowled and stood to leave, taking the sketch from his pocket and leaving it on the bench next to Bucky.   
“Look, I’ve said my bit. God be with you, Bucky.” And with that, he left, ignoring the way Bucky called after him, still trying to stop laughing. 

 

*

 

> _ Steve;  _
> 
> _ I’m sorry. I really, truly am. I didn't mean to offend you  _ ~~_ or anything, but you were just _ ~~ _~~-~~. I want you to know that I won't try and force you to love me or anything like that. I understand how uneven marriages work and I want to get this clear right now; I will never see you as less than my equal. That being said, we may have to put on a show every now and then, for people like my father or the company- They’re all  _ ~~_ assholes  _ _ Republicans _ ~~ _ the kinda people who think people like me are somehow “better” than people like you. I might not know you, Steven Grant Rogers, but I know that’s not true. If you hate me, you’ll never have to see me aside from at dinner parties and the like (where, I’m so sorry, but we’ll need to blend in so  _ **_please_ ** _ don't kick up too much of a fuss at any comments--------- _

 

_ I can’t fucking  _ send _ this,  _ Bucky realised, crumpling the… 10th? 14th? draft of his letter to Steve.  _ It’d just make him fucking hate me even more.  _ He pushed out a breath, slouching back in his chair and rubbing his hands over his eyes.  _ Maybe I should ask Tasha for help. Or- is that sexist? She might punch me if it turns out to be.  _ He sat back up, pulling another sheet of paper towards him. 

 

> _ Steve, _

 

_ * _

 

_ What the Hell does he think he’s doing? _ Steve wondered, a smile rising, unbidden, to his lips as he re-read the note Bucky had sent him.   
“Someone looks like he got good news,” Steve’s mother teased. “Should we be worried about the purity of your marriage?” Steve looked up at her words, but there was a smile on her face.   
“I- Actually, it’s from James,” he was quick to tell her. He reached for a slice of toast and spread marmalade on it, shoving it in his mouth so he’d have an excuse not to say more.   
“Oh, is that so?” She asked, her Irish accent giving a lilt to the question. “And what does Mr Barnes, junior say today?” Steve gestured to indicate that he was chewing, although the blush that rose to his cheeks gave him away all the same. “I’ll wait, I want to hear this.” Steve swallowed reluctantly and his mother smiled in the way she had that let him know she was itching for news. She wasn’t a gossip in the slightest- she was just the kind of person who loved hearing about the good things in the lives of others. 

Steve cleared his throat and took a sip of orange juice when he knew he’d stalled long enough.  
“‘Steve;’” he read, “‘I’d known from seeing you after church that you drew.’ And, ma, here he’s crossed out, ‘not that I was looking or anything but’- But what? Anyway, he says, ‘What I didn't know is that you’re easily the best artist our age that I know. Which might seem like a small demographic but please just take the compliment. I’m sorry I laughed at you on Sunday. I should've taken you more seriously, and for that, I wholeheartedly apologise. I just want you to know that’- and ma, this is the part that made me laugh- ‘I’m not some asshole Republican who thinks omegas and beta women should stay in the kitchen or any of that bullshit.’ What? What even _is_ that?” Sarah covered her mouth with her hand, but the lines around her eyes betrayed her smile. “‘Steve, I’m not under any illusions that you’ll love me. But please give me a chance. Bucky.’ I don't know how to feel about this,” Steve concluded. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I've been a terrible host, I know, but I haven't had wifi since June so it's been hard for me to post! I'm actually uploading from mobile, which is why the formatting is off. New chapter sooner rather than later, I swear.

_Steve moaned breathily as Bucky’s lips trailed down his stomach, the alpha smirking at the sound. He let his teeth graze against his partner’s hip briefly before the smaller man’s fingers tangled in his hair, dragging him up for a kiss._   
_“C’mon,” the blond encouraged him, “Please, Alpha, want you. Want your knot so bad…”_   
_“Patience,” Bucky reminded him. “Want this to be good for you, baby. Just relax…” He whispered. Steve took a deep breath, feeling the oxygen surge through his body, and slowly started to relax his muscles. “That’s it,” the alpha praised, “that’s so good, sweetheart. Take a load off, let me take care of everything. So sweet, sugar, so sweet for me.” Steve felt a flush from his hairline to his chest._   
_“B-Bucky,” he called, reaching for his partner’s hand. Bucky held his hand gently, delicately, in his prosthetic._   
_“Is this okay?” He asked. Steve’s head cocked to the side, as though he were confused. Bucky gesture to their joined hands._   
_“Y-yeah? Why wouldn't it be?” Steve asked. Bucky felt something like pride bubble up in his chest and he leaned down to kiss Steve, but before their lips met---_

  
Bucky woke up.

  
*

  
“I dunno, Sam, it was a pretty graphic dream, but he was really… For lack of a better term… Sweet?” Steve questioned himself the next day. He and Sam were at their shared art studio in downtown Brooklyn. “He was making sure I was okay the whole time and everything, and it didn't seem out of character for him. But unless I just never noticed- which is possible- he doesn't have a prosthetic. It was weird.” Sam shook his head, looking back down at his sketch of the still life under the window.   
“For somebody who claims to be indifferent to the guy, you sure do talk about him a lot,” he observed. “Look, I’m not supposed to tell you anything about him, really, as one of the therapists he works with. But because I trust you, and you deserve to know, if you’re marrying him, I’ll tell you I think Barnes has seen enough violence in his time. Only makes sense he’d keep everything gentle. And it’s weird you mentioned prosthetics- his left arm is a prosthetic, engineered by Stark. He got fitted for it about six months after he got back from the war. That’s why he usually wears gloves.”

  
Steve inhaled deeply.   
“So… How did I know that, in the dream? God, none of this makes sense,” he griped. “I wouldn't be complaining if the situation was any different- he seems like a good guy, and he’s pretty easy on the eyes- it just pisses me off that my dad didn't tell me, and his told him. I’m also pissed he didn't tell me. Wouldn't you talk to the other person? I know I would. It’s just frustrating I guess.” He exhaled, scratching his cheek before remembering that he had charcoal all over his hands. “Damn it!” He exclaimed. Sam laughed.   
“Look, Steve,” he explained once he’d stopped laughing so hard, “Not everyone knows you like I do. You can be pretty… I’m gonna say… _grumpy_ , most of the time. Look, he probably just thought you didn't want to talk to him while you were drawing. Was he wrong?” Steve frowned, but shook his head. “See? He was probably just scared to talk to you.” Steve rolled his eyes.   
“Scared of what? A five foot four omega? Who he’s got a legal claim over? I just think it's a bit fishy, is all." Sam nodded, conceding.   
"You don't know what your drawing face looks like, though," he pointed out. "Man, l can't get this shadow right," he complained, prompting Steve to point out why it wasn't working. "Thanks. Seriously, though, Barnes is a bit of a chicken, at least socially. Don't think a physical fight exists that he'd run from, but stick him in a social setting and he's putting up about ten walls. But like I said, I shouldn't talk about it." Steve nodded.   
"Thanks, Sam. Alright, I'm sick of wallowing. What do you want for lunch? I'm buying."

  
*

  
“He asked me about you, you know,” Sam told Bucky at their next appointment, startling him out of his thoughts. He looked over to the other man, his expression pinched.  
“Sorry, who?” he asked.  
“Steve. He asked me what you’re like.” Bucky exhaled heavily and rested his head against his hand.   
“What’d you tell him about me?” He was a bit scared to know the answer. He never really knew where he stood with Sam Wilson, because although Sam was his therapist, he was also very sarcastic a lot of the time, and Bucky didn’t always manage to pick up on that these days.   
“Nothing bad,” the beta assured him, “Mostly just character observations. He said he had a dream about you, wanted to know if it was accurate. I told him you’re a good guy. Prove me right.”

  
*

  
The next time they saw each other, Steve was about four hits from getting knocked unconscious when he heard a familiar voice growl, “Hey!” A protective scent filled the alleyway and the alphas that had been beating on him turned toward its source: Bucky stood at the entrance of the side street, his teeth bared and his nostrils flaring. “Leave him alone,” he ordered. Gilmore Hodge, the tallest and broadest of the gang, puffed himself up and sauntered over to Bucky.   
“Yeah? Make me,” he challenged. “This little bitch had the nerve to say ‘no’ to us nice fellas when we was just tryin’ to have us a good time.” Bucky visibly seethed, his eyes flaring and hands starting to curl and uncurl involuntarily.   
“Please go,” he warned, “I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.” Hodge laughed and tried to punch Bucky, but found his fist was caught in an iron grip before Bucky used his grasp on Hodge to flip him over onto the concrete with a sickening thud. “Anyone else?” He asked. The rest of the pack scattered, Hodge following behind, cradling his fist to his chest. Bucky hurried over to where Steve was huddled on his side.   
“Hey, are you… wait… Steve? Oh my god… Steve, I’m gonna carry you out, okay?” Steve whined weakly in pain, but otherwise didn't protest. “I know, I know it hurts, I’m sorry, but we gotta get you to the hospital, Stevie.”

  
After that, Steve’s awareness dropped off significantly, and he was only vaguely conscious. When he woke up, he was lying in a hospital bed, with Bucky asleep in the chair next to him. “Bucky?” He asked, confused. The brunet startled awake and sat forward, taking one of Steve's hands between both of his own.   
“Hey,” he greeted, “scared me there. You were out for a couple hours, though from what the docs are telling me that’s not surprising. How do you feel? Need more pillows? Getting enough morphine? I can call a nurse, if you-”  
“Bucky,” Steve calmed him, “I’m fine. I promise. Do Sam and my mom know I’m in here?” Bucky nodded, a concerned expression on his face.   
“Of course. First thing I did once you were settled was to find a phone,” he assured the omega, “Your mom’s here, she’s just getting coffee. Apparently she's not as worried as I am.” Steve laughed, sounding a little hard.   
“Yeah, well. This ain't so uncommon,” he admitted. Bucky breathed deeply and squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve blinked hard, sure he was imagining the concern in Bucky’s eyes.   
“Be careful, okay?” Bucky mumbled. Steve scoffed and took his hand from between the other man’s.   
“You don't have to pretend like you give a shit,” He told him. “You know as well as I do that there are way better people for you to marry than me.” Bucky looked hurt, and Steve folded his arms over his chest. “Don't give me that. I know how alphas work. There are a lot of other warm places to stick a knot, you won't get it from me till I have to give it up.” Bucky recoiled, standing up and pacing.

  
“Jesus, Steve,” he cursed. “You think this is an act?” Steve nodded and the alpha slumped down into the other chair. “Jesus,” he was mumbling. Before he could say anything else, Steve’s ma came in the door, carrying two mugs of coffee on a tray.   
“Oh,” she observed, “am I interrupting? I’ll come back later, then. Here’s your coffee, James.” And she left again. Bucky closed his eyes and took a deep breath before responding to what Steve’d said.   
“I will never force you to have sex with me,” he promised. “Look, we’re expected to spend your next heat together, and I’m big enough to admit that I’d like to breed you then, but I won't unless you tell me beforehand that you want it. Jesus, Steve, I’m not a rapist.” Steve worked his jaw, looking staunchly away from Bucky. “Look, I hope you heal quickly, okay? I’ll see you in church.” Bucky kissed his forehead gently and left, leaving his coffee behind. 


	3. Chapter 3

Steve, of course, felt horribly guilty about his little outburst. He wrote Bucky about ten letters, all of which ended up in the trash, and which were all some variation of the following:

_Bucky;_   
_I am so, so sorry. I really have no excuse for the way I acted, unless you count morphine as an excuse. I want you to know that I don't think of you, personally, as a rapist, which- Jesus, you’re completely right, I was implying that. My only real prior experience with alphas has been limited to interactions not unlike the fight you broke up so forgive me if I seem a little paranoid_

In all, Steve wasn't doing so good.

*

_Steve:_   
_I’m so sorry. I don't know what I did to make you mistrust me so much, but- Look. I want to make you feel comfortable. I’m so sorry for whatever it was that I did to make you think of me as a violent person, and I’ll do whatever it takes, just please don’t- God, there I go again. It’s not about what I need, okay? If you want, we can… We can get a divorce as soon as the marriage license goes through. I’d really like to try and make this work, but if you’re uncomfortable around me, you can leave me as soon as the contract’s up. Again, I’m so sorry._   
_Yours,_   
_Bucky_

Steve flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the rain on the window. This, of course, was the opposite of what he wanted or even expected: he had anticipated anger and vitriol from Bucky- He’d hoped for indifference- But what he got instead was hurt and self-doubt.   
“What the Hell am I gonna do?” He asked his stuffed bear. Black glass eyes stared back, void of advice. “Oh, you’re no help. I might as well just- just go to his house, and- Wait.” I should go to his house, he realized. He rolled off the bed, grabbing a pair of socks from the top drawer as he went.

*

“Buck? There’s some skinny blond fella here to see you, says it’s important,” Dugan called from the doorway. Bucky caught the rubber ball he’d been bouncing off the wall and followed his butler downstairs. They’d always been casual like this- Bucky’s father and Dugan’s had been friends, so it was only natural to have a more relaxed relationship. Steve was standing in the front hallway, dripping wet from the storm.   
“Steve? What're you-? You're gonna get sick!” Bucky exclaimed, running to him and helping him out of his jacket. “Dugan, can you get some blankets and coffee?”   
“Tea, please,” Steve murmured as Dugan headed for the kitchen.   
“And tea,” Bucky added, louder. Dugan nodded and headed toward the kitchen. “Jesus, Steve, what’d you do that for?” The alpha asked as he steered the smaller man toward the sitting room, where there was a fireplace to warm up in front of. Steve sniffed, moving to sit on the ground in front of the hearth.   
“Your letter. I didn't mean to say all that, in the hospital. Just… That’s all I’ve ever known from alphas, is attempted rape and violence. I shouldn't've said what I did, ‘n I’m sorry.” Bucky sighed and shook his head.

“Couldn't’ve sent that in a letter? If you’re dead from pneumonia, no in-person apology matters anyway. You were all hopped up on whatever painkillers they gave you, I figured it just kinda slipped out. We all say things we regret, Steve.” Steve shrugged out of his overshirt and gave Bucky a look. “You tellin’ me you didn't believe it when I said it?” He asked.   
“Well- uh- no. No I’m not. It hurt, it hurt a lot, but honest to God, Steve, that doesn't matter. What matters is that you're safe and happy, okay? And not just because of the stupid contract. I’ve- I’ve had a crush on you since well before we differentiated. I’m talking Sunday school, here, Steve. Go ahead and laugh, okay, but I’m being serious.”   
“I know you are,” Steve replied, “I saw the way you used to look at me. I just thought, after the w- I mean, after everything you've been through--”   
“Never.” Bucky looked into his eyes as he said it, and Steve felt the once-familiar rush of being the centre of Bucky’s attention- Bucky started to lean in, and Steve found himself almost magnetically drawn to him---

And then Dugan cleared his throat from next to the door. Steve looked down at his hands, blushing uncharacteristically, as Bucky went to get the supplies his butler had brought. He told Dugan to phone Steve’s mother at the clinic and not to disturb them again (please?), before helping Steve out of his slacks and undershirt, averting his eyes politely.  
“You don't have to,” Steve murmured, “gonna see next month anyway, right?” Bucky spluttered.   
“Steve, I’m not gonna force you-”   
“I know,” Steve assured him, “but you'll be gentle, right? Gonna make me feel good too?”   
“Of course! Of course I will, Steve, I’ll do my best, just tell me what you want and I’ll do it, honest, I’ll make you feel so good-” Steve took hold of Bucky’s jaw and turned his face to look at his body.   
“I know you will. I had this dream, see, and you took such good care of me, Buck. You kissed me all over, and it felt so good, and you were so nice and gentle with me… Neither of us was on our cycle, it was just for fun… You were a really fuckin’ good kisser,” he told his fiancé, “Wonder if you're really that good…” Bucky swallowed nervously before reaching up with his gloved hands to cup Steve’s face. “Would you take the gloves off first, please?” Steve asked cautiously. “I want to feel your hands, not leather.”   
“Steve, there’s something I gotta tell you first-”   
“-I know you have a prosthetic,” Steve told him. “I can feel when there’s steel under leather, just so you know. It's your hand, Buck, it doesn't freak me out.” Bucky turned his head away.   
“Sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes cast down. “It didn't occur to me somehow that you'd notice.” Steve held Bucky’s hands in his own and shushed him.   
“It's okay, Buck. I got no reason to be mad at you. Can I help you take these off?” The alpha nodded stiffly and Steve gently tugged the gloves off by each fingertip so they wouldn't turn inside out. Bucky’s left hand trembled as though he wanted to hide the shining metal from his fiancée. Steve, however, just smiled up at him, lacing their fingers together. “Much better,” he whispered. Bucky looked on the verge of tears, however, so Steve let go of his hands and cupped his jaw, kissing him gently. Their first kiss.

“You're okay,” Steve assured him, stroking Bucky’s hair away from his eyes. “I’m here. I won't let anyone hurt you. You're safe here, darling. What do you need? I can go, if I’m upsetting you- I didn't mean to- or if you want that coffee now, or- we can put the gloves back on if you want, like I said I don't want to make you uncomfortable- I’m rambling, sorry, should I sto-” Bucky cut him off with a kiss. Slowly he brought his hands up to cradle Steve’s jaw, barely touching him with his left.   
“Thank you,” the brunette whispered. “I was worried you'd be scared of me. Thank you so much for not minding.” Steve’s eyes flashed briefly with something that wasn't quite pity, but wasn't quite not-pity.   
“Buck, I do mind. I mind that you got hurt. But this-” -he cupped his hand around Bucky’s prosthetic- “-is part of you now. I’m no more scared of it than I am of the rest of you. And since I've decided to give you a chance, I’d like to give all of you a chance.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Steve's heat hits in this one. Both he and Bucky wind up pretty much losing their sense of themselves and each other, falling back on their instincts. If you recall they had already talked about consent prior to the heat a few chapters back, so everything here is consensual. If at any time one of them was in pain or withdrew consent, because they bond in this chapter their instincts and the feelings that come through the bond would tell the other to stop and take care of their partner. Unfortunately there is rape in this verse and in that case the bond would not take, so those instincts wouldn't kick in. I've received a few negative comments so I'd just like to point out that I'm not a professional author, just a teenager with not a lot of life experience who has a lot of feelings about these two idiots. Also if Steve is treated badly due to his status (not by Bucky I promise!) it's because of the time setting- this is not modern day. I've left it purposefully vague but there was some concern as to my own views and I wanted to apologize to anyone who felt that I was prejudiced against women in the real world. I have great respect for women and the things that they face, and although I don't identify 100% as female it was the gender I was assigned at birth. I've experienced cat calling and people harassing me for going to women's health centres. I acknowledge that this is not the extent of discrimination and violence against women and I actively participate in political discussions to try and change unfair policies against women and other oppressed groups. I'm sorry to those I've offended and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

From there, both of them are able to relax more easily. They go on walks more frequently- though never alone and certainly not often enough to upset propriety- and Steve begins to realize that the boy he knew in Sunday school might not be gone completely, even if Bucky’s not as suave as he once was. Steve notices more and more how Bucky shrinks from loud noises, and gravitates toward more intellectual pursuits rather than the “more masculine” traditional alpha activities like hunting or ogling omegas. Bucky, in turn, realizes that Steve hates to be babied, so although he expresses concern for the omega, he does it in ways that don't make the younger man feel small or weak. It’s really going quite well.

*

They aren't allowed to see each other for a week before the ceremony, in case Steve’s heat is triggered early. Bucky knows it’s just tradition but he can't help but miss Steve- the way he sometimes looks at Bucky out of the corner of his eye when he laughs, how every emotion is expressed though his entire body… Bucky’s pretty sure they have a good chance of being happy together, even if it is an arranged marriage. He writes to Steve often in that week- though the contents of each letter are thoroughly mundane, he really just wants the excuse to talk to Steve.

*

Waiting in a small chapel at the cathedral, Steve allowed himself to panic, just a little.  
“Ma, what if I go into heat in the middle of the ceremony?” He could already feel the pricking at the base of his spine that signalled he was only hours- if that- from dropping to all fours and presenting himself to Bucky. If he lost control like that in front of all the bonded pairs in the entire congregation…  
“You worry too much,” his mother scolded, her Irish brogue thick with emotion; her only child was about to be married, after all. “If that happens, which I highly doubt, the Father will bless your union and tell the congregation that the Lord is so eager for the two of you to be bonded that He’s decided the ceremony doesn't matter. With how marriages are scheduled, it happens in about one in three weddings. Don't fret about it, you’ll be fine. Now, remember to speak your vows loud and clear, won't you?” The organ started playing; it was time for her to walk Steve down the aisle. “Deep breaths,” she soothed him one last time before the great oak doors swung open.

*

Bucky steadied himself, struggling to keep himself from turning around to see Steve as the omega walked down the aisle toward him. Even at this distance, and with all the other people in the sanctuary, Bucky could still pick out Steve’s scent, strong and comforting- his heat wasn't far away, that was sure. Only when he heard them come within the traditional five feet did he finally allow himself to turn around and see his bride. Steve looked absolutely stunning in a green satin dress that, although a modest and traditional style, suited the omega perfectly. Bucky bowed to Mrs. Rogers, asking “May I?” quietly before gently taking her son’s hand from her. She smiled at them and patted their joined hands gently before taking her place in the first pew. As they turned to face the bishop, Bucky squeezed Steve's hand and murmured, “You look beautiful.”

*

Steve blinked, somewhat numb. He barely remembered the ceremony, but apparently he had managed to stumble his way through it, and they were now signing the marriage certificate. He didn't feel frightened to be married to Bucky- the past month had proved that they were compatible and Steve trusted the alpha- his Alpha- not to force him to do anything against his will. He put the pen back in the inkwell and took a deep, shakey breath, looking up at Bucky with a smile. Bucky practically beamed back, his hands reaching out to cup Steve’s face before remembering it was improper to do so in public before he, too, signed the sheet of paper that bound them to each other legally.

He winced with a smile and whispered,  
“Sorry,” before leaning over the table and signing the document in duplicate. The second he was finished he was on his knees, his head on Steve’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of Steve's heat. Steve, who was still sort of out of it, gently wrapped his arms around the- his- Alpha. Bucky’s hand on his cheek was slowly grounding him, but he could feel the heat encroaching much more quickly.  
“We need to go, I’m almost in heat,” he mumbled against dark, soft hair.  
“As soon as the witnesses are done,” Bucky promised. Seconds later, sure the legalities were out of the way, he scooped Steve into his arms and carried him through the crowd, his head held high in challenge of any alpha who wanted to try and stop him now.

Steve, of course, was mortified. “Put me down!” He protested, “I can walk!” Bucky just smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple.  
“I know you can; I just wanted to carry you. Let me carry you into the bedroom when we get to the cottage, too, okay? I’ve been dreaming about this since I was a kid, let me do this just this one night.” Steve still grumbled, but it was under his breath, and adorable anyway. Bucky chuckled and kissed him gently. “Let me take care of you just this once,” he murmured, “and I’ll make you apple cake for breakfast.” After that, Steve didn't complain again as Bucky carried him to the town car.

*

Bucky didn't let Steve set foot on the ground once they reached their destination. He got out first, then ran around, opened Steve’s door, and lifted him out with relative ease. It was slightly tricky to find his way down the cobblestone path in the dark without being able to see his feet, and he had a bit of trouble with the doorknob, but he never feared that he was about to drop his new wife. Wife. That would take some getting used to. The part of Bucky that was still ten years old was running around in circles in his head, whooping with joy at the idea that Stevie Rogers was married to him, and happy about it. They reached the master bedroom, immensely glad that the door was already ajar so he wouldn't have to fiddle with the latch- it didn't even have knobs!- and strode inside, gently laying Steve down on the bed.

“Is there anything you need before your heat starts? I can set water heating for a bath if you like, or make you something to eat- or tea? I could make tea. Do you think we’ll need the hearth in this roo-”  
“-Bucky. If you're nervous, just say so. It’s okay, it doesn't hurt so much for me. I’m lucky like that. If you wanted to help, though, I think I saw some motherwort and coltsfoot hanging in the main room?” Bucky nodded. “If you could make me some tea with those and some rose hips and honey, that would kickstart the heat. No telling how long we’ll be waiting so we might as well try and help it along. I’m guessing you won't let me walk with you to the rocking chair to keep you company?” His Alpha shook his head. “Carry me, then. Please. You're not going to let me do it and you won't get the proportions right on your own.”

“Alright then, your majesty,” Bucky chuckled. “You know, I’m starting to like it when you boss me around.” Steve raised an eyebrow at that, lifting his arms so that he could be held upright this time, taking some strain off Bucky’s shoulders.  
“More of that can be arranged,” he purred into the taller man’s ear. Bucky prayed he’d miss the way his fingers tightened on Steve’s thighs. The way the blond smirked, it wasn't likely.

*

“Lots of honey, please,” Steve requested when his tea had steeped the required ten minutes, “It tastes horrible otherwise.” He watched Bucky scoop a generous portion of crystalline honey into the mug and smiled. “Thanks, Buck. Unlace me while I drink it?” His Alpha sputtered.  
“Is- it's gonna be that quick?” Steve laughed,  
“I probably won't even get to finish the tea. I’m already starting to slick.” Actually, he had started to slick, much to his mortification, as he was walking down the aisle. It was made about a hundred times less comfortable by the fact that, as per tradition, he was wearing exactly no undergarments, in case his heat hit too quickly to get undressed. Bucky set the tea on the windowsill to Steve’s left, then stood behind the rocking chair to start unlacing the corset that was cinching in the omega’s waist. Steve started coughing as the pressure released, and Bucky kneeled next to him, his hands rushing everywhere, wondering what to do, only to be waived. “It’s okay, Buck, I’m coughing on purpose. Helps get the lung capacity back after waist-training like that.” Bucky visibly sagged with relief, the distress hormones he had been pumping out stopping.  
“Jesus, Stevie, you scared me. I’ll remember that next time, I promise.”

And all at once, the alpha’s intoxicating scent, so close, finally pushed Steve over the edge and into the abyss of his heat. He whined, high in his throat, making Bucky’s mouth water. “Guess it caught up with you, huh?” He murmured to his- his!- Omega. His mate. The smaller man only whimpered in response, pushing his nose against Bucky's throat, and the alpha stood, lifting him out of the chair with ease. “Shh, baby, I’m here. I’ve got you, sweetheart, I'm here. Gonna fill you up now, sweet Omega. My sweet Stevie. I'm gonna give you my bond when we're knotted all tight, and you're gonna give me yours. We’ll belong to each other, doesn't that sound good sweetheart?”

Steve whined and tightened his legs around Bucky's hips. “Alright, honey, it's okay. Just gotta get us out of these clothes,” the coherent one murmured as he set the heat-crazed Omega on the bed. He stripped them both, hanging up their clothes carefully in the wardrobe before turning back to his Omega, who needed him. Who was presenting, belly down and ass up. Bucky kneeled beside the bed, spreading Steve’s cheeks with his palms. He hadn't been kidding about slick- he was dripping so much that it went down to his knees.

“Oh,” he sighed. “So nice and wet, Stevie. Presenting so perfectly for me honey baby, my sweet, sweet Omega.” He licked a stripe over Steve’s arousal, moaning at the taste, and burying his face in for more. He tongued carefully at his entrance, not forcing entry, but Steve was so relaxed and heat-driven that it slipped right inside. He couldn't tell how long he did this for, ignoring his instincts and his own arousal in the hope of drawing just one more beautiful sound from the body underneath him. Eventually he felt Steve clench around him, crying at the lack of a knot inside him, filling him up, claiming him, breeding him. Bucky kissed a gentle line up his Omega’s crooked spine as he made his way up to scent and kiss and nip at his neck.

*

“Buh- Bucky,” Steve sobbed. “Please. Alpha, please.” Big, gentle, warm-cold hands held him still, one on his shoulder, the other on his flank.  
“Relax,” Bucky commanded, and calm seeped into Steve through his Alpha’s scent. “I’m here, baby. I’m gonna fill you up now. You want this?” Steve cried out with frustration. He didn't understand why his Alpha didn't just claim him already. “Steve.” There it was again, that voice that make him weak in the knees to obey, “tell me how you're feeling. Good or bad, I want the truth.” He slicked even further, his hindbrain elated to be given orders.

“Need. Please? Alpha. Bucky.” Some part of him, drowned by the heat, knew that this wasn't a real sentence, but the alpha accepted it, pressing himself against Steve’s back and kissing his neck, rubbing their scent glands together. Combining their scents into _warmsafehome **mate**_ in a way that made Steve feel so thoroughly loved that he mewled and mumbled, “Alpha? Love you,” and released _happylovepuppies **mate**_ into their scent. A deep rumble shook against his back as his Alpha purred, slipping three fingers inside of Steve.  
“Mine,” the alpha asserted.  
“Mine,” Steve sighed.

“Gonna knot you now, baby,” Alpha whispered against the back of Steve's neck. “But I gotta turn you over first okay?” Steve whined as fingers prised him off of the bed, only to flip him over and pin him by his shoulders. “There you are. Missed those beautiful blues.” Steve choked on a cry as Alpha pushed his cock inside of him.  
“Big. Hurts,” he whispered, tears forming and clinging to his lashes, “Alpha, make it better.” His Alpha smiled down at him and more _happywarmsafe_ bloomed in his stomach as the alpha pushed the hair out of his face, wiping away his tears.  
“You trust me so much,” there was awe in the way Alpha said it, like he thought he didn't deserve it. “Don't worry, baby, I won't move until it stops hurting. We’ll go as slow as you need. You're so precious, Stevie.”

Steve was aware of breathing deep, of Alpha kissing his face, and gradually the pain faded. He wrapped his skinny legs around his Alpha’s thighs and pulled him deeper inside by another, thicker, inch. Again, deep breaths and kisses, and again, pain, over and over until Alpha’s half-popped knot was all the way in. Steve made a content noise and rocked his hips, encouraging Alpha to move. He did, slowly at first, kissing all over Steve until he allowed himself to push deeper, be rougher, go faster, the kisses turning to sweet little nips. “Mine,” Alpha growled, almost feral. Good. Alpha was going to rut so he could breed Steve even better. Steve mewled,  
“Yours,” and pushed back against frantic thrusts. Soon enough, Alpha’s knot popped, locking them together, and Steve felt Alpha’s _warm_ inside him as he clamped his teeth on Steve’s bonding glands. Steve bared his teeth and left a matching mark in his Alpha’s throat before everything faded to warm, safe blackness.

*

His Omega was so beautiful lying underneath him. Locked to him by his knot, bonded together by their claims- his Omega was dreaming right now, nice warm soft safe dreams by the feelings he got through the bond. He gently scooped up his Omega and lay on his back, settling Omega on top of him. The bond tugged briefly toward awake but settled as he got comfortable. He kissed Omega’s forehead. He loved Omega. _His_ Omega.

*

In time, Omega woke up, still locked with him. Bucky smiled, gentle hands wandering over fevered skin. “I love you, Omega,” he breathed, watching his mate preen.  
“I love you too, Alpha. Need…” Bucky scanned his mate’s body through the bond. Was he cold? Hungry? Properly scented? “…Need _somethin_ ’, Alpha, need it bad. Can't think-”  
“Hush, little one. Where do you hurt?” But his Omega shook his head.  
“Not hurt. Need. Here,” he placed his hand low on his belly, sitting up so Bucky could see, and shifting his cock in the process. “Oh!” Omega shouted. “That's- more, Alpha, need it,” he continued at a whine. Bucky, more than happy to oblige, grasped his mate by the hips and flipped them over so that he could fuck deeply into his Omega, restricted only by his knot, stopping him from pulling out altogether. “Alpha…” Omega breathed, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s back. “Want pups please, Alpha. Make me have pups. Want your pups. Please. Please, Alpha,” Bucky felt his eyes roll back in pleasure as he imagined his Omega, full and round and soft, carrying a litter. His knot swelled again before he came for the second time inside his Omega; this time he was the one to pass out.

*

Steve lay, patiently waiting for Alpha to wake up, with his head on Alpha’s shoulder, listening to him breathe, feeling his heartbeat, the bond singing with how _good_ and _sated_ they both felt. Alpha was having good dreams right now. He was so happy, and Steve smiled and buried his face against Alpha’s glands to drink in the scent. The knot inside him was still pulsing, still breeding him- no wonder his poor Alpha had blacked out. Steve settled and decided to take a nap while he waited for Alpha to wake up and rut into him again. “Love you, Alpha,” he whispered.

*

When Steve woke he was on his back, with Alpha thrusting inside him again, kissing and biting his throat. “Ah!” He cried, “Alpha, please, need it, Alpha, love you, Alpha, want your pups!” His Alpha purred, his speed increasing, and his touch gentling where it wandered across Steve’s body. He looked in Steve’s eyes and whispered,  
“Oh, my Omega, you're gonna give me _so_ many pups.” Steve cried out at that, startled as his Alpha gripped his prick and started jerking him. He shook and moaned, and when his Alpha sunk his teeth into Steve’s neck, Steve came so hard that slick poured out of him despite Alpha’s strong knot. He cried, and Alpha held him close, stroking his hair out of his eyes and shushing him with sweet, soft kisses, though his thrusts were no less sharp.  
“Alpha,” he begged, “let me have it. Want it, please, gimme your come. Gimme, please, Alpha!” And he did. His Alpha cried and shook through his third orgasm and Steve held him through it, _warmsafehappylove **mate**_ permeating the air and their bond.  
“I love you, my precious Omega,” his Alpha murmured. Steve felt it through the bond, stronger than any of the others he'd felt yet from his Alpha. He curled up with his ear to Alpha’s chest to listen to his heartbeat.  
“I love you, Alpha.”


End file.
